


No Hope

by Shadowspier



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:35:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowspier/pseuds/Shadowspier
Summary: You made a promise to never forgetHe tensed his jaw. He hadn’t forgotten. He would never forget. Not one moment. Not one line of their story.No! He couldn’t think about him because if he thought about him he would think about what he would say. And if he thought about what he would say he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to.Torchwood/Arrow crossover set in the finale of season 1 where Ianto comes in and saves the day.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Laurel Lance/Tommy Merlyn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. You can’t beat me

**Author's Note:**

> This is about to be a kinda cheesy bordering cringey Torchwood and Arrow crossover set in the finale of season 1 where Ianto comes in and saves the day. I’m sorry I did this, I just had to as it wouldn’t leave my mind until I wrote it. Obviously this is an AU, but it’s mostly Torchwood canon complacent.

Background: This is set for Ianto in between season 2 and 3 because there was a lot of time between the two according to all the audio dramas set then.

Jack had left after Ianto died and went off traveling the stars for a century or more and then came back and found a woman who had also lost her one and only (Not that I think that Ianto was Jack’s one and only, he was only one of the soulmates Jack’s bound to have in his long lifetime, but it fits given Jack is still grieving) and understood his pain. They got married and had a kid and he had finally found some semblance of peace after all those years of being on the edge of a complete breakdown when it was all taken from him by a measly piece of human scum. And he broke, utterly and completely. Something inside him snapped and the one part of him that could die, did. He shut off his emotions and his conscience and went on a misguided crusade to fix the world bit by bit because if he didn’t, no one would. Screw the future, the human race is amazing, but selfish and that never changes so what’s the point in knowing that if you don’t do something about it. He knows that he will regret it one day, that he will drown himself in self pity and remorse, but at the moment he is so blinded by loss and anger that he just doesn’t care. What immortal being hasn’t done something horrific and regrettable? The most dangerous men are those with nothing to lose.

_*** Bolded Italics is Jack’s conscience** _

_* Regular italics are Jack’s thoughts_

_* "Quoted italics are recorded messages or memories"_

* * *

“You can’t beat me Oliver. Yes, you’re younger and you’re faster, yet you always seem to come up short against me. Wanna know why?” He asked, looking at the bloody and beaten face of the kid - no, man - he thought of as family, “Because you don’t know in your heart what your fighting for. What you’re willing to sacrifice and I do.” he spat.

_Gray. John. Rose. Mickey. Jackie. Anthony. Eleanor. Angelo. Jack. Estelle. Clement. Lucia. Melissa. Alex. Steven. Suzie. Tosh. Owen. Gwen. Martha. Alonso. Robert. Rebecca. Tommy._

Everyone he had loved and lost. Everyone he had screwed over. Everyone that he couldn’t save. The people who had died for nothing. The people who had died for everything.

_**You’re forgetting someone** _

_No._

_**You made a promise to never forget** _

He tensed his jaw. He hadn’t forgotten. He would never forget. Not one moment. Not one line of their story.

_Ia-_

No! He couldn’t think about him because if he thought about him he would think about what he would say. And if he thought about what he would say he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to.

“No one can stop what’s about to come.”

_No one that cares enough to show up._

“Not even the vigilante.” He steeled himself as he walked away, re-hardening his interior to match his exterior. He was going through with this. This would save so many people.


	2. So you kill them all?

“Yeah, and he said you wanted to nuke to glades or something,” Tommy said darkly, “It’s funny, scotch doesn’t make it any more believable. Maybe,” he continued, rolling up his sleeves, “after your jihad, we can grab some steaks.”

If he hadn’t known the gravity of what he was about to tell his son, he would have chuckled at how much he sounded like his mother. He hadn’t really chuckled since Rebecca died, and he hadn’t truly laughed since-

He took a breath and turned, “It’s true, Tommy. It’s the reason I closed your mother’s clinic. I didn’t want to see it leveled.”

Tommy shook his head like he didn’t quite hear right, “What?”

“I have something I’d like you to listen to.” He said as he walked towards his desk, fully aware of what he was about to do, “The night your mother died,” He paused to breath, “She called me. I woke to a voicemail from her.”

“Dad,”

“Her final gift to me,” He said as he hit play.

_ “Malcolm, I’m in trouble. I told them to take everything. My money, my ring.” _

Tommy had unshed tears in his eyes and he was shaking, “Turn it off,”

_ “He shot me, I screamed for help but…” _

“No one would come,” He said, just as she did on the recording. He would never forget her final words, they were engraved in his mind as the moment he broke. Lost all semblance of hope and faith in the universe - in him, the man that he had long ago trusted to fix all the broken toys.

_ “Oh God, Malcolm! I don’t want to die alone.” _

He let out a dry laugh as it was the only thing he could do to not let out a sob, “She bled out into the pavement while people passed and did nothing,” He looked at his son, barely able to stomach the look of horrid anger on his face, “Your mother built her clinic in the glades because she wanted to save this city.” 

That had originally been what drew him to her, after all the terrible things he had done and witnessed he had lost hope, and she was radiating it. But then his sliver of hope was gone again, leaving an ugly bitterness.

“It can’t be saved. Because the people there don’t want it to be saved,” He had tried, for centuries, he had tried. But it always ended up the same way, with him waking up to the dead bodies of those he loved.

“So you kill them all?”

“YES!” He screamed. 

**_Careful now, wouldn’t want to let any of that pesky emotion in, now would we?_ **

_ Shut up!  _

_ Why was it always his voice? _

“THEY DESERVE TO DIE! THE WAY SHE DIED!”

**_The way I died?_ **

_ I said SHUT UP! _

He felt it happen again, the same feeling he felt every time he heard that voice in his head. His head untangling from his heart. His connection to his emotions breaking. Of course, it’s almost never there to begin with, and when it is, it’s gone very quickly. 

After everything, he got his vortex manipulator working again and left. He couldn’t cope, so he blocked the memories and distracted himself. Well, not so much blocked the memories as severed the emotions that went with them. He knew that they happened, that his grandson had died, that his daughter would never love him again, that his love had died, and that he had done terrible things, but he felt nothing. He figured he probably would if he were to think about them too much, but he didn’t let himself. He severed the connection between his heart and his head, his conscience no longer having a voice because when it did, it had his voice. And he couldn’t handle that. He spent around a century turning into a heartless flirt with no emotional attachments who was able to make the hard decisions that he couldn’t make before, the ones that cost him everything. 

“Is it true? Did you kill all those people?” Tommy asked him.

“I did what I had to do,” 

_ What I should’ve done before. What no one else will do. _

“Malcolm Merlyn, you are under arrest,” The police stormed him, guns raised.

He would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if it hadn’t been for the fact that Tommy was there. He couldn’t die, but his son could. And he would not lose another person.

He hadn’t even realized he had taken the cops out until he heard Tommy pleading with him, a gun raised to his head.

“Stay back, I don’t want to hurt you,” Tommy’s voice cracked.

“You can’t. And you can’t stop me,” He said, knocking him out.

He would not lose another person.


End file.
